


Old Fool

by AlsyWalsy



Series: Author!Gold [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Rumbelle Showdown 2015, Treleaven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:46:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3805897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlsyWalsy/pseuds/AlsyWalsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my submission for the third round of the Rumbelle Showdown 2015. The prompts were Calcifer, Tears and Eeyore</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Fool

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoy, this story was written under the pen name Treleaven. Thank you to everybody who voted for me!

It had been two months since Gold’s first convention in eight long years and he had foolishly agreed to attend a second. He refused to admit that he had actually enjoyed the previous event and that he was looking forward to this one in the hopes that a certain beautiful young brunette might turn up. He had insisted that he would enter and exit through the main doors, making some excuse about only a handful of people really knowing what he looked like or some such. He had hoped that he might be able to spy her but had had no luck on the way in.

His panel was uneventful, full of the usual questions about his books and his personal life, the latter of which he always dodged and used his knack for words to turn the question back to his books. It was a whole lot easier that way. In between questions he did his best to scan the crowd for her face but found nothing. It eventually dawned on him that she may not have come – that her curiosity over him had been sated with just one event. Of course, it was always possible that he just hadn’t seen her. An old fool could hope, right?

People swiftly moved past him without so much as a glance as he made his way to the door, his disappointment growing with every face he failed to recognise. A large portion of people were dressed up as a whole array of characters and creatures, some from things he recognised. It never failed to amaze him how fans could come out in such droves with such excitement and enthusiasm.

“It’s okay, I promise he is no longer angry..”

The voice seemed to come to him across the constant chatter and laughter, as crystal clear as though the owner was the only one in the room with him. He turned towards it and heard her speak again. He knew that voice, as sweet as honey and an accent one wouldn’t soon forget. He limped through the crowds to find her.

“B-but..” A second voice sniffled. “He yelled.. I- I didn’t mean to.”

“I know that and so does he, he was just upset and the time. It’s okay.”

He stopped dead when she finally came into view, right in the path of an oncoming walking tree. The tree clipped his shoulder and he grunted, drawing Belle’s attention. For a moment she looked surprised then a brilliant smile formed on that beautiful face.

She had her arm around a young woman in an odd looking donkey outfit, the head sitting on the bench at her side. He noticed she was crying and had tears on her cheeks, but it seemed that Belle’s comforting was doing the trick. Belle gestured for him to come over then turned to the donkey. Eeyore - that was it. It had been a long time since he had seen poor old Eeyore.

“Don’t let this ruin your day. I think we have seen enough tears now.” Belle offered Eeyore a tissue and she took it with a shy smile and a quiet thank you. “You had best catch up with your friends, maybe wash up? Tigger will be waiting.”

Eeyore nodded and thanked Belle again before taking up her head and rushing off to find her friends. The beauty turned to face him and she patted the free spot on the bench beside her.

“I am so sorry I missed your talk. I am sure it was amazing.”

“Your optimism is rather outstanding, but I can assure you it was just average.” He settled beside her and let his cane rest loosely in his hands. “You didn’t miss much.”

“I disagree.” She smiled.

“It seemed that you had your hands full, at least. Was the crying donkey a friend of yours?”

“Oh, no. I was running late for the panel and noticed there was an argument going on between a whole group of them.” He followed the direction she pointed and saw a young man with a dark-bluish wig and a mess of wood and orange stuff in his hands.

“What happened?”

“Apparently they walked into each other and little Calcifer there bore the brunt of the collision. Howl got angry that his prop was destroyed and started yelling at Eeyore. She broke down just as I got there.”

“Calcifer?”

“Yes, the mess in his hands.” She smiled. “It was once a homemade hearth with a little flame in the middle. Apparently it was very good. But it couldn’t stand up against the might of a donkey.”

Her choice of words caused him to laugh and he shook his head. “I know who Calcifer is but he is the wrong colour. He is blue.”

“Well, he is blue in the books, but in the movie he is oran- Wait, you know Calcifer?”

She looked at him in such disbelief that he nearly laughed again. “I do read, you know. I am able. It does help with writing.”

“Of course.” She smiled. “But it is a book for teenagers, I was just surprised.”

He smiled but it was tinged with sadness. “I know that. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t good.”

“It was. The movie wasn’t too bad either. You didn’t know there was one?”

“I, ah.. I have been rather out of the loop.” He took a great interest in the golden handle of his cane. “Plus, I don’t own a television.”

“Would you like to see it? It really is rather good. They changed the story a little but it is hardly a bad adaptation. I would give it an eight out of ten.”

He turned his head to look at her, disbelief written all over his face. To his ears that invitation had sounded like so much more than it really was and he was sure that his heart had skipped more than just one single beat. He cleared his throat before daring to speak. “See it?”

“Yes, I believe they are showing it tonight in one of the halls.” She fished a programme out of her bag and flipped through the pages. “Yes, eight o’clock. Would you like to go? I mean, you don’t have to.. I am sure you are very busy and would rather go back to your hotel or something..”

The blush that tinged her cheeks did all sorts of things to him and he had to clear his throat again before answering. “I would love to. Would- would you like to get some coffee, in the mean time? We can have our own panel, perhaps. You can ask the questions you didn’t get to hear the answers to.”

His rare moment of bravery was rewarded with a beaming grin which warmed his heart. “Just name the place, Mr. Gold.”


End file.
